Big Sky Christmas

Hands already washed and dried in anticipation of this, Winnie stepped out from the counter. “Hello, Olive. Why don’t we sit down?”

She led Olive to an empty booth at the back. Relax. Stay calm, she advised herself. It would be easier, she hoped, to deal with Olive here than it had been at the wedding.

Her café was a warm, welcoming place, painted and decorated in the colors of the foods Winnie loved most: caramel, chocolate, vanilla and, of course, cinnamon. The booths were nestled up to wooden-framed windows that overlooked the picturesque Coffee Creek for which the town had been named.

In the spring and summer, the water had a translucent topaz color, which some more prosaic types likened to the color of weak coffee.

In the winter, though, ice and snow crept up from the banks of the creek, and the cold streaming water looked more gray than brown.

“I was hoping to meet my grandson today,” Olive said, without preamble. “Finally.”

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear. Afternoon is the best time for visits. Around two-thirty, after I finish work.”

“So where is he now?” Olive glanced around as if expecting to see him.

“At Linda Hunter’s. She’s his new babysitter.”

Olive frowned. “The whole town is going to have met that child before me.”

“What are you doing later today?”

“I’ll be at home, going over the accounts, probably.”

“I could bring him out to Coffee Creek Ranch for a visit.”

Olive’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you could stay for dinner?”

Winnie forced a smile. “Sure. When would you like us? We can come anytime after four.”

“How about five, then? We’ll eat early so you can get Bobby home at a decent time.” Olive started to rise, then hesitated. “Maybe you could take a look at Brock’s cabin while you’re at the ranch. I was thinking it might make a good home for you and Bobby.”

Winnie had heard rumors that Olive wanted her and Bobby to live on Coffee Creek Ranch. Years ago Bob Lambert had built three cabins alongside a small lake on the ranch for Brock, B.J. and Corb.

Since Brock’s death, his cabin had been vacant—but moving in there had very little appeal to Winnie. “That’s a very kind offer. But my apartment is fine for now. Nice and close to work and Bobby’s babysitter.”

“Corb, Laurel and Stephanie are very comfortable in their cabin. And I’m sure you’d love living so close to them.”

That part was true. But it was living near Olive that had her worried.

“Trust me, your son will be a lot happier growing up on a ranch than he would be in town. Don’t you think it’s what Brock would have wanted?”

Winnie didn’t know what to say to that. Olive had a point. Brock probably would want her and Bobby to move to his cabin.

“In fact—” Olive’s eyes sparkled as an idea struck her “—why don’t I ask Bonny to freshen up the place today and then Corb can drive his truck into town and help you pack? I bet we could get most of your belongings moved tonight.”

Tonight.

Tonight?

“But—” Winnie floundered.

“I’ll stop in at Molly’s Market and pick up some groceries to stock your cupboards and the fridge. And I’m sure—”

“Wait,” Winnie finally said. “This is such a kind offer. But may I think about it a few days?”

“What’s to think about? I’m not just offering you a place to live, Winnie. I plan to sign over the papers. The cottage will belong to you, free and clear.”

It was incredibly generous. And yet, to Winnie, it still felt like a trap.

Olive placed her hand over Winnie’s. “You’re a mother now. And mothers put their children’s needs before their own. I’m sure it’s convenient for you to be close to your work. But think about Bobby. Your apartment is just too small. I’ve had three sons, so I know what boys need, and that’s space. Room to play and run and explore.”

Winnie stared mutely at Brock’s mother. In the back of her mind she registered the fact that the ladies in the booth beside them had left and some new customers had come in. But she didn’t look up to see who they were, or if Dawn needed help.

Right now all she could focus on was Olive.

The older woman had hit a nerve when she’d said a mother had to put her child’s interests first.

Was she being selfish by not taking Olive up on her offer?

“Maybe when Bobby’s older we could move into Brock’s cabin,” she finally said. “But he’s still small. My apartment is fine for now.”

Olive must have been so sure she was winning her case. Now her brow furrowed with consternation. “Are you serious? But isn’t it a one bedroom?”

Winnie didn’t want to answer. Because she knew Olive was right, that she needed a bigger space. There had to be another solution. If only—

And then, suddenly and unbelievably, Jackson was standing by their table. Winnie gazed up from his boots, to his worn jeans, his open jacket, his guarded face. He touched the tip of his hat. “Olive.” He nodded to the older woman, then to her. “Winnie.”

“Hello, Jackson.” Olive’s greeting was clipped. She clearly wasn’t pleased at the interruption.

But Winnie sure was. “Hi there, Jackson. Why don’t you sit down while I bring you both some coffee and cinnamon buns?”

“I didn’t come for food,” Jackson said quickly. “Just wondered when you wanted me to start work on that second bedroom for the apartment.”

She stared at him blankly. But only for a second. And then she smiled. “The sooner, the better.”

“This week is looking good. If I got some measurements now, I could have the supplies by Friday.”

“Sounds perfect.” Winnie turned back to Olive. “Bobby and I are going to be okay for the time being. But I do appreciate your offer. And I will definitely keep it in mind.”

Olive gathered her purse, then stood. Her gaze flickered sharply from Jackson to Winnie, then back again. She wasn’t a woman who liked losing. And Winnie could tell she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel yet.

“We’ll talk about this some more over dinner tonight.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

* * *

“WHAT A HERO. Thank you.” Winnie gave Jackson a grateful smile after Olive left the café. “Let me at least get you a coffee for the road.”